by Amy Joy
“While I am on the subject of attire,” she continued, “let me tell you about the regulations regarding your appearance. Your uniform should not be altered in any way. It will be worn with the pant legs reaching to your shoes—not rolled up—and the shirt collar buttoned all the way up. Likewise, sleeves must be worn just as they are—not folded or rolled. You have been given short sleeves to begin the school year and the building is air-conditioned, so you should not have any trouble. A jacket has been provided for any of you who tend to chill easily.” She glared at me when she said it, and several people turned to look. I blushed and looked away.
“As for your personal hygiene, it is expected that you will shower at least every other day. Long hair will be worn tied back away from your face. No makeup will be provided, but soap, shampoo and a few other essentials will be. Non-compliance with the dress code will not be tolerated. When I call out your name, come forward to get your uniform and a box of personal hygiene items.”
As she called each person, I watched and listened, hoping to get an idea of who I was going to be living with for the next several years. A few names I recognized, though they were people I really didn’t know in high school. Then I saw my bunk-mate go forward, but unfortunately, I missed her name.
Next Sergeant Garret distributed school supplies. We were each assigned a basic laptop computer and given several notepads and a few pens and pencils. Then we were shown where our rooms’ printer was located and where we could get more paper and ink when it ran out.
Finally, Garret passed out the schedule for the following day. Horror struck me as I read it.
6:00 a.m. Wake up
7:00 a.m. Breakfast
7:30 a.m. Math Placement Exam
10:00 a.m. English Placement Exam
12:30 p.m. Lunch
1:00 p.m. Science Placement Exam
3:30 p.m. History and Social Sciences Placement Exam
6:00 p.m. Dinner
7:00 p.m. Fitness testing
I couldn’t believe I had to take so many exams. Couldn’t they just look at my records and figure out a good place for me to start? And what was “fitness testing”? As a non-athlete, I could think of no better way to end what looks like a miserable day.
Next Sergeant Garret directed our attention to the rules of The Academie, which were posted in bold letters on one of the walls of the dorm.
All students will:
Show respect to all Academie teachers, staff, and personnel
Attend all meals and classes
Obey the rules of hygiene and dress code
Not leave the facility unless given permission by an Academie staff member
Not occupy the dorm area during class hours (if you are sick you should be in the medical ward)
*All students will obey these rules of conduct or be held accountable*
Dinner came next, and I joined Ruby again for a gourmet delight of dried out lasagna and iceberg lettuce drizzled in cheap Italian dressing. I knew now how The Academie could promise to put students in better health than they entered with: they were going to starve us. Since most young people were overweight, students here would drop weight and the tactic would make it appear that The Academie was doing great. I had it all figured out. That is, until I looked around and saw everyone else enjoying themselves. What’s with this place?
After dinner, we returned to our dorm for the evening. “Ladies, the rest of the evening is yours to get yourself settled in,” Garret said, “—but keep it the noise to a minimum. If it gets too loud, we’ll spend the rest of the evening in silence. Also, because you have a full day of testing tomorrow, the lights will go out an hour early, at 10:00. This should give you plenty of time to prepare yourself and get a good night’s sleep before your exams. Any questions?”
No one moved.
“Alright then. Goodnight ladies.” Garrett turned her back and waved as she exited, but perched herself right outside the door. I wondered if she intended to spend the entire evening there.
I looked at the clock. Seven-thirty. What was I going to do for two and a half hours? Around me people began to shuffle softly, but it seemed they all may have been thinking the same thing, for there was very little conversation.
That’s when I realized there was no television. In my college dorm there was a common area with a T.V. and a couple of couches, where we could hang out when we had nothing to do or just needed to relax. Here there appeared to be no such thing. Three years with no T.V.? I wasn’t a huge T.V. viewer, but the thought of living without it completely seemed a bit extreme. Just another way to cut us off from the rest of the world…
I decided to use the time to set up my desk and get the rest of my things situated. My bunk mate lay on her bed again.
“I was going to take this desk, if you don’t mind,” I told her, gesturing to a desk on the right side of our bunk.
“Fine by me,” she said.
I pulled the stack of school supplies down from where I had placed them on my bed and began to find homes for them inside the desk. Next I brought down the laptop and opened it up to see what it could do. Just like the outside suggested, the software was very basic: a word processor, calculator, spreadsheet and database program and a couple others that appeared to be specific to different types of classes I imagined I might take during my time here.
I knew I wouldn’t find it, but I searched for any program that might get me onto the internet.
It was to no avail.
Somehow this made the fact that I wasn’t going to talk to Bryan again all the more real.
5. stupidness
How did my life come to this?
I shut the computer, climbed up into my bed, and stared at the bright industrial lights above me.
A week after I graduated high school, construction began to turn this place into an Academie facility. In fact, the final days of my high school years were primarily a looting party. Teachers didn’t even attempt to hold proper classes. Things disappeared from everywhere as people took them home as souvenirs. First it was little stuff: things off bulletin boards, staplers, pencil sharpeners, lab goggles, a tambourine from the band room. But then there were big things: microscopes, printers, tuba—yes, I saw a guy walk off with a school tuba. One guy even pried the front off his locker and took it with him.
Teachers looked the other way. Some said nobody cared because they heard it was all going to be trashed anyway. Another rumor claimed that the teachers were encouraging it because they were losing their jobs.
I didn’t believe that at the time. Where would the government get so many new teachers in so little time? I remember asking someone. But I couldn’t help but notice that Mr. Waters brought a larger than usual bag to school on the last day. And I swore I saw him shove a school laptop inside of it on his way out…
The day The Academie opened was practically a holiday. Most businesses either closed or gave their employees a half day off so that parents and siblings could say goodbye to family members. News stations ran a continuous broadcast from local Academie facilities, shifting periodically to Washington for updates from government officials. The President gave an address reiterating what a difference The Academie would make for the future of our nation. It was all stuff that we heard him say countless times before, but for some reason people seemed glued to the T.V. when he came out to say it again.
It was October, so I was away at college. Since I wasn’t allowed to keep a car on campus, my dad was kind enough to make the three hour trek to take me home to see my sixteen-year-old brother, Matt, off to The Academie the next day. That night we had one last family dinner, ate cake, and said goodbye to life as we’d known it. The next morning, mom, dad, Matt, Andy—five-years-old at the time, and I ventured off to my former high school—now a fully functional Academie facility complete with 16 foot prison fences, and we left Matt within its gates.
A year later, here I was. Within months of the first enrollment of high schoolers, the message came out: The Academ
ie was a success. The program would be expanded. I knew some of the modern theories of adolescence; we’d discussed them in College Pysch. Many experts believed that young people today weren’t fully developed until they were in their early twenties or beyond. Some said we weren’t adults until thirty. The Academie used these studies to support the expansion. That’s how I—and every other person under the age of 23—got drafted into the program: they changed the definition of adult.
The thing that frightened me wasn’t even the place itself, as much as how eager people were to accept it. The Academie system supplanted all previous educational options. Yet rarely did I hear complaints. And if I did, they were just that: complaints. No action. Is that what it means to be an adult?
Bryan came into the picture about six months ago, after my visit with Matt. I couldn’t think about that now. I pushed Bryan’s image from my brain.
I focused instead on my nightmare visit with Matt. It still made me sick to think about it. Matt and I had always been so close, but now all he seemed to care about was his education—his future.
“The opportunities here are immense,” I remember him saying. “The teachers are exceptional and not only am I already working on my college degree way ahead of schedule, when I leave here, the teachers will be able to offer me great references to get me started. They are all army personnel, you know, and that will look great on my resume.”
I’d worked so hard to get to visit; I tried to ignore how he was acting. “But do you get outside? Does it suck being stuck here?”
“Allie, aren’t you listening? It’s great here. I get outside plenty and the people here are like my family. I have no reason to leave."
Like family? That hurt…both then and all over again as I remembered it. I remember looking away. That’s when I saw the video camera. “Are they watching us?”
“I don’t know, probably. What difference does it make?
“Well it’s weird, isn’t it? I don’t like the idea of being watched. I’m glad you like it here, but this place gives me the creeps. Do you know that they have a guard shack and a gated entrance out front? They gave me a hard time about coming here, and then they made me fill out a huge stack of paperwork and show two forms of identification just to be able to see you today.”
“Well, you heard what they said at orientation: they don’t want anything interfering with our education. Frankly, I agree with them.”
“What are you saying? You don’t want me to visit?”
“I’m just saying that I’ve now been taken out of class twice because you’ve visited and mom and dad visited a month ago, and I’m missing out on a lot I’ll have to catch up on.”
I remember looking at him, aghast. I hadn’t seen him in months and he was complaining about an hour’s visit? “You told me to come now, remember?”
“Yeah, well, that was before.”
“So it already sounds like I’m not going to see you when you graduate either, so what is this? I’m out? Is it too inconvenient to have a sister now?”
“My future needs to come first, Allie. You understand that, don’t you?”
No, I didn’t understand. But I was too upset to discuss it further. I stood up and grabbed my purse. “Our hour is probably about over anyway, and if not, I’m sure both you and they will be happy if you’re back to class a bit early.”
“Thanks Al, I appreciate that.”
I still wondered if he could really be that stupid. Could he not see how angry I was or the tears I tried so desperately to hold back?
He stood, and I saw he had grown since I saw him last.
“I’m glad you like it here.”
“Thanks. See ya.” He turned and opened the door opposite the one through which I’d entered. He didn’t look back as it closed behind him.
Tears fell down the sides of my face and onto my pillow as I remembered it all again. I brushed them away quickly so no one would see.
Stupid, stupid Academie.
6. lights out
The evening crawled by. Few people around me said anything. Most kept to themselves, setting up the small bit of personal space we would each have for the next several years. When the clock showed that it was after nine, I pulled out the box of personal care items I had been given earlier and began to rummage through it. A bar of soap, bottle of shampoo and conditioner, a shaver, a toothbrush, tube of toothpaste, deodorant, hairbrush, comb, and a couple of hair ties. Beautiful.
Next I pulled out the clothing pack. Tonight I had to surrender my civilian garb in favor of the daytime and nighttime uniforms, which would be my only clothing option for the duration of my time at The Academie. I unrolled the pack and found a white, short-sleeved, button down shirt with “The Academie” written over the pocket, a pair of tan pants, and a navy blue jacket decorated with The Academie emblem. Tucked between these I found a pair of white socks, a bra and underwear, and a cotton shirt and shorts for bedtime. The bedclothes looked moderately comfortable—though I was now certain I would freeze. Visions of three years without sleep filled my brain.
In the center of the clothes pack, I found two bags. One contained a pair of very uncomfortable-looking dress shoes to go with my uniform. I sighed audibly and opened the second bag. Inside I found a pair of flip flops, which—since I hadn’t seen a pool—must be for the community showers.
The clock now read a quarter till ten, so I reluctantly began the descent from the top bunk, armed with my sleep clothes and box of toiletries. Under the bed was our only drawer for clothes and personal items. The problem with this, I had already realized, was that since it was under my bunkmate’s bed, if she happened to be resting, I wouldn’t be able to get into it without disturbing her. Luckily, she appeared to be in the bathroom at the moment.
I pulled out the small bag I came with and shoved the personal items box into the drawer. Thankfully, I wouldn’t need those until the stuff I brought with me ran out. At least that’s what I thought, until I found that my toiletries had been confiscated. Seriously? I pulled back out the box, grabbed my bedclothes, and headed to the bathroom.
Inside, I found the room crammed with girls. With less than fifteen minutes until lights out, I wondered how I might possibly get to a sink and toilet stall before the time was up. Ah, the joys of community living and an enforced bedtime…
I found a place along the wall and stared at the ground to wait.
“You can share with me,” I heard someone say a moment later.
Looking up, a pair of bright blue eyes set in fair skin bordered by light blonde curls met my gaze.
“Thanks,” I said, moving forward.
“I’m Stevie.” She smelled of shampoo and her curls were still a little damp from the shower.
“I’m Allie. Thanks for sharing. I didn’t realize we’d all make a run for the bathroom at the same time.”
She combed through her curls as I pulled out my toothbrush and set to work. “So, are you excited to begin classes?” she asked, smiling.
Her question surprised me. I wasn’t excited about anything here. “Well, I’m not excited about all the testing tomorrow,” I said, trying not to spray her with toothpaste.
“Oh yeah, me either,” she scrunched her face up a bit as she said it, and I couldn’t help but think that she was nothing less than adorable. If I didn’t have Bryan, I’d feel a lot of pressure to compete with her for guys. Of course, I don’t have Bryan… The thought slipped in and I quickly pushed it away.
I rinsed my mouth and began washing my face. I hadn’t planned out the shower thing. “You were smart showering tonight. I wish I’d thought of that.”
“I didn’t want to have to worry about it in the morning. The showers were actually empty too.”
“I’ll have to remember that in the future.” Since I was not a morning person, I’d usually showered at night anyway. The new surroundings seemed to be throwing me off.
“Well, I’m finished. Good night.”
“‘Night,” I echoed.
I finished quickly and found an empty toilet stall. That’s when I realized how difficult it was going to be to change clothes without dragging them all over the dirty floor. How did all the other girls do it? I did my best and resolved to find a better solution for the future.
I was on my way back to my bunk when the lights went out. The shock to my eyes set me momentarily blind, and I feared I’d never find my bunk. Slowly my vision adjusted, and I could make out some forms. But in the dark, I still couldn’t tell which bed was mine. Damn! I wish I knew my bunkmate’s name! But I hadn’t a clue.
I tried to make my way carefully through the dark. Meanwhile, I could hear someone else moving around on the other side of the room, and I wondered if they were in the same position.
What do I do? There was just a tiny bit of light coming from the bathroom. They must leave this light on in case someone had to get up and use the toilet in the middle of the night. But it was very dim—probably so it wouldn’t keep us awake.
I had no choice. “I can’t find my bed,” I whispered desperately.
“You’re over here,” a voice called back. Thankfully, I recognized it as the slow, drawn out sound of my bunkmate.
I took a few steps toward where I thought her voice had come from. Then, still uncertain, I asked again, “Here?” It was soo dark…
“Yes.”
Thank goodness. I had visions of climbing the ladder and finding someone already in the bed. I laid my things by the end of the bunk and climbed the ladder, checking for a body before I pulled myself onto the mattress. Then I slid onto my stomach and I hung my head over the side.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.”
“I’m Allie, by the way.”
“Tina.”
“Quiet girls!” the voice came from the side of the room and we obeyed. I felt like my interaction with Tina was cut short, but what could I do?